Hung

Super, super dark.

So I find the stick-cracking noise issuing from somewhere near a gigantic pine tree disturbing. I bolt to my feet. It could be bears. Or killer possums. Or the Douche. Frankly, stalking me in the dark is exactly what the Douche would do. He swore he’d come after me, and I’m sure he’s doing exactly that. It’s why I’ve made it my mission to avoid his capturing me. One step ahead. That’s all I have to stay.

Another unidentifiable noise emanates from the shadows.

I grab the baseball bat I keep stashed behind the log for midnight defensive maneuvers. I have another one in my cabin because I don’t trust myself not to forget it and a girl needs to be armed and dangerous in this world. Olivia bolts to her feet too, but she calmly sweeps the clearing with her eyes. I guess she’s looking for whatever shit’s about to storm toward us. Her whole body’s relaxed, but she looks ready to rumble. I always knew she was a bad ass.

“Stand down.” Lola tugs on the hem of my shirt. “Cute wildlife alert.”

Sure enough, a raccoon waddles out of the dark, blinks at us, and then scoots down the driveway. Presumably, it’s on its way to the dumpster down by the road for a little midnight snackage. Olivia sits back down like it’s NBD. Lola starts laughing.

“Are you okay?” Olivia’s still got her super calm gaze trained on me.

“I’m fine.” I wave my hands like a little breeze might distract them from the way I’m sort of, almost hyperventilating.

Lola rubs my back in little circles. “What are you afraid of?”

It would be stupid to tell her. It—

Olivia throws up a staying hand. “Don’t self-incriminate.”

When we both turn to look at her, she shrugs. “We’ve all got secrets,” she says.

“Are you holding out on us?” Lola frowns mock-ferociously.

Olivia draws her fingers away from her eyes in a vee. “Don’t make me threaten you.”

“Oh.” Lola chews on that for a moment. A very short moment. Then she shrugs and stabs a finger at me. “This one, however, needs an intervention.”

Wait. What?

If we divide our crew up into saints and sinners, I’m the saint. Even my reasons for being on the lam are almost entirely benign, although I’ve kept those to myself. Lola’s my girl, but we haven’t known each other long enough to trade life-and-death secrets.

So I frown right back at her. Deny deny deny. “I’m an angel.”

Lola reaches over and smacks my arm. Since she’s already sitting super close, she comes close to honking my boob. “You kissed a boy.”

This is not the moment to ask which boy because there are only two possibilities: my last kiss with the Douche or my first kiss with Mister Hotshot. So I suck it up and brazen it out.

“So?” That’s a genius comeback right there. Short, pithy, and puts the onus back on Lola.

Of course she’s up for the challenge. “Shall we review the rules of the Break Up Club?”

“Objection.” Olivia’s hand shoots up into the air. “Those rules were suggested steps, not stipulated regulations.”

“Are you a lawyer? Judge? Jury? Long arm of the law?” Lola blows a raspberry—and Olivia sort of freezes.

“No?” Anybody hear the question in Olivia’s answer?

Yeah, me too. Unfortunately, they both turn and stare at me. I’d rather pursue whatever Olivia’s hiding.

“Sure?” I say rather weakly. The longer we review, the longer I have to figure out which guy Lola’s up in arms about. I’ve spent loads of time recently getting creative with my life story, so I can deal with this.

Lola springs to her feet and starts pacing back and forth. I think she might have mistaken our rather grubby campsite for a Broadway stage because she pitches her voice to be heard by us and every wild animal lurking in the woods.

“Ladies, in order to be founding members of the Break Up Club, you swore you’d lived through a particularly egregious break up. We agreed to get over those bad relationships together, to support each other, to make sure no member backslid.”

I nod vigorously. “And I’m pretty sure I said thank you.”